Raven Crowking
First Post
Having discussed Gardner F. Fox's Thief of Llarn with Gary Gygax, I was informed that Gardner Fox was both admired, and considered a personal friend, by Gary Gygax. I recently had the opportunity of reading Kothar – Barbarian Swordsman by Gardner F. Fox (1970).
Here are some excerpts:
The corpse turned its head so that it could look at Kothar out of its empty eye-sockets. The barbarian felt the touch of eyes, even though there were no eyes to see or be seen. He stiffened, his flesh crawled, his long fingers took a firmer grip on his sword-hilt.
Even as he stared, the lich sat up.
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Kothar lay frozen motionless on the dirt. He was alive and possessed of all his senses but that of movement. He could not so much as flick a finger.
----------------------
A hollow voice murmured, “Call not on Eldrak of the Seven Hells. He listens not to carrion such as you. He is my friend, as are all the ancient gods.” There was an illusion of vast distance behind the voice of the cadaver that stood on rotting feet and showing the whiteness of bones protruding through its burial garments.
A mercenary screamed and would have run, except that the dead thing held him as he held the giant Kothar flat upon the ground. Terrifying laughter lifted into its throat as it began to glow with inner green fire.
The eerie radiance became brighter, and as it pulsed throughout the ancient grave, Kothar felt energy flow into his body. His wounds closed over, his blood caked and hardened, and anger rose into his brain like a madness. He stirred, he moved his hand, he rose upward.
On his feet he looked at the dead thing without fear, though with revulsion. It gleamed with verdant brightness, illuminating the death chamber and the mercenaries in their mail shirts and metal helmets, with swords naked in their hands.
“Slay them,” the lich said, and Kothar leapt.
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Kothar scowled. Afgorkon? Surely he had heard Queen Elfa speak of Afgorkon who had been a mighty magician fifty thousand years ago. He tried to think, but could not, being held in thrall by the black, empty eye-holes of the dead thing standing before him, bent and brown and old.
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“Frostfire was forged in the primal ooze by devils summoned up by me five hundred centuries before. It was wrought of a metal fallen from the skies, it was dipped in the molten middle of the world, it was cooled in the snows of a mountain so high nothing but a sylph – a winged spirit of the air could take it there. It can pierce any armor, any helm. It can be carried only by a man who has no other wealth.”
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“Stand,” growled Afgorkin, and Kothar went rigid.
-----------------------------------
Are we looking at Hold Person, curative magic, Command, the AD&D lich, and the AD&D sylph? Notice also the mention of the Seven Hells, the idea of a sword forged of star metal, etc.
RC
Here are some excerpts:
The corpse turned its head so that it could look at Kothar out of its empty eye-sockets. The barbarian felt the touch of eyes, even though there were no eyes to see or be seen. He stiffened, his flesh crawled, his long fingers took a firmer grip on his sword-hilt.
Even as he stared, the lich sat up.
----------------------
Kothar lay frozen motionless on the dirt. He was alive and possessed of all his senses but that of movement. He could not so much as flick a finger.
----------------------
A hollow voice murmured, “Call not on Eldrak of the Seven Hells. He listens not to carrion such as you. He is my friend, as are all the ancient gods.” There was an illusion of vast distance behind the voice of the cadaver that stood on rotting feet and showing the whiteness of bones protruding through its burial garments.
A mercenary screamed and would have run, except that the dead thing held him as he held the giant Kothar flat upon the ground. Terrifying laughter lifted into its throat as it began to glow with inner green fire.
The eerie radiance became brighter, and as it pulsed throughout the ancient grave, Kothar felt energy flow into his body. His wounds closed over, his blood caked and hardened, and anger rose into his brain like a madness. He stirred, he moved his hand, he rose upward.
On his feet he looked at the dead thing without fear, though with revulsion. It gleamed with verdant brightness, illuminating the death chamber and the mercenaries in their mail shirts and metal helmets, with swords naked in their hands.
“Slay them,” the lich said, and Kothar leapt.
-------------------------------
Kothar scowled. Afgorkon? Surely he had heard Queen Elfa speak of Afgorkon who had been a mighty magician fifty thousand years ago. He tried to think, but could not, being held in thrall by the black, empty eye-holes of the dead thing standing before him, bent and brown and old.
---------------------------------
“Frostfire was forged in the primal ooze by devils summoned up by me five hundred centuries before. It was wrought of a metal fallen from the skies, it was dipped in the molten middle of the world, it was cooled in the snows of a mountain so high nothing but a sylph – a winged spirit of the air could take it there. It can pierce any armor, any helm. It can be carried only by a man who has no other wealth.”
----------------------------------
“Stand,” growled Afgorkin, and Kothar went rigid.
-----------------------------------
Are we looking at Hold Person, curative magic, Command, the AD&D lich, and the AD&D sylph? Notice also the mention of the Seven Hells, the idea of a sword forged of star metal, etc.
RC
